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The air crackled, charged with the weight of her words. "Second chance?" I echoed, the question a rusty hinge creaking open long-dormant possibilities. "You'd… offer that, after all the wreckage I've left in your wake?"
Her gaze, unwavering, held a steely resolve. "Everyone deserves a chance to mend, Dax," she said, her voice a melody laced with quiet strength. "Even you."
I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Second chance? You already gave me one, remember? Back then, eyes sparkling with a hope that I shattered like a dropped snow globe."
The air grew colder, the unspoken accusation hanging heavy. But then, a flicker of light warmed her eyes. "Second, third, a thousandth – the number matters little," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "It's about offering a corner in my heart, a space for you to grow."
My breath hitched. "Her heart?" The words echoed in my mind, each syllable a tremor in the foundation of my self-doubt. "Why now, Skye? After pushing me away, branding me with rejection's scorching iron?"
She met my gaze, her eyes a stormy ocean holding secrets. "Because," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "because I think… I think I might like you."
The confession hung in the air, a hummingbird's heartbeat against the roaring silence within me. She lowered her head, a blush blooming on her cheeks, a vulnerable offering that sent my own defenses crumbling like sandcastles under the tide.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Skye
As I bared my soul to him, a wave of electricity surged through my legs, causing a delightful tingling sensation. It was both exhilarating and terrifying to finally confess my love to Dax. I had naively believed it would be a simple task, but as reality set in, I found myself faltering, stumbling over my words, and constantly diverting the conversation whenever the opportunity to express my feelings arose. Yet, against all odds, I mustered the courage to unveil the truth, although now I am left trembling, praying fervently that Dax will consider giving our love a chance.
Seeking solace, I leaned wearily against one of the lockers, finding a semblance of comfort. Dax's hands rested casually on the locker beside me, drawing himself nearer to my trembling form. His presence overwhelmed me, both physically and emotionally, as if he were surrounding me, stifling my breath. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his captivating dark blue eyes. They held me in a trance, enchanting me with their intensity. The silence enveloped us, amplifying the pounding of my heart, a steadfast witness to my vulnerable state.
My eyes roamed his face, noticing the black mask adorning his lips.
It whispered of secrets and hidden pain, but I knew better than to pry. Dax was under no obligation to disclose his innermost thoughts to me.
And so, I waited anxiously, clinging to every second, desperate to hear his response.
My heart raced, a chorus of anticipation and trepidation mingling within me. I longed for his words, yearning to know if my confession would be met with acceptance or rejection, fearful that all my efforts would crumble like fragile shards.
"You like me?" he echoed, shattering the prolonged silence that had torn me asunder. His hands gently reached out, tenderly caressing my silky, curly strands of brown hair, delicately weaving his fingers through them. "Are you truly certain?" he inquired, a sliver of doubt etching his features. His desire for absolute certainty was palpable, as he sought confirmation to anchor his hopes and dreams.
"Yes, I really do," I replied, maintaining eye contact with him, desperate to uncover the reason behind his concealed identity. My suspicions were growing, fueled by our lingering interaction.
"And now you come to this realization?" he questioned. "What caused such a delay, Skye?" His hands continued to explore my curly hair, his fingers delicately moving through them, much like a curling iron.
I hadn't anticipated him posing the same question again. "I needed time to contemplate my decision," I answered.
"Well, your indecision only intensified my longing," he confessed, leaning in closer. His fingers continued their playful dance through my curls, while his other hand traced a gentle path along my neck, as though trying to unravel a hidden truth.
A faint smirk revealed itself beneath his black mask, providing a glimpse of his true emotions.
It felt like a scene from a storybook, the clichéd moment of kissing the misunderstood bad boy, or rather, Dax. "Now, Skye, tell me, how do you feel after finally expressing your emotions?" he inquired, his tone unexpectedly eager.
"Good," I stated simply, with only one word.
"Good? To what extent?" he prodded.
"Very good!" I replied, adding emphasis.
"How very good?" he persisted.
"Why the sudden inquiry, Dax?" I blurted out, unable to contain my surprise. In all honesty, I never expected him to pose such a question.
"Because of many reasons," he responded, his tone a combination of tenderness and an underlying coldness. Dax wasn't known for his gentleness.
I was taken aback by his cryptic statement about the masked lips. Perplexed, I desired further clarification. But before I could voice my confusion, his lips abruptly planted themselves on mine, catching me completely off guard. The unexpected smooch, though devoid of any discernible flavor, exuded a chilling eagerness that sent shivers down my spine. Though brief, this kiss managed to quicken the pace of my heartbeat.
As if guided by an electric current, he gently rested his hands upon my neck, drawing himself closer to me. A wave of sensation pulsed through me as I released a fragile breath. It was in this vulnerable moment that he posed the question, "Does it feel right? Do you appreciate the sensation?" Bashfully, I nodded in response, opening a gateway for his subsequent words. "So, Skye, you finally comprehend the reality. Your mother is soon to become my father's bride, isn't she?" The revelation struck me like a bolt of lightning, paralyzing me in disbelief.
